The Borg vs. The Empire Part I: The Death Star
by zephyran
Summary: A Borg cube finds itself in a time long ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Part One of several to come, rated for violence and mild language. Please Read and Review!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:  
  
I do not own any characters, species, or other indicia from either Star Wars or Star Trek. Any that appear in this story are used without permission. However, this story and any characters I have created (not existing in the official Star Wars or Star Trek) are mine. This story is made available for fan entertainment purposes only, and I am not making any money by presenting or having written it. I am poor, so please don't sue me.  
  
***  
  
Third of Five. Earth, twice. Seven of Nine.  
  
These names continued rolling around in her head. Were the Queen capable of real emotion, she would be beyond fury.  
  
The Borg were unstoppable. They were the most powerful species in the known galaxy. Then, the species that referred to themselves as "humans" repeatedly caused setbacks in The Borg's plan. Almost insignificant setbacks, but setbacks nonetheless. No species had ever resisted The Borg and been able to delay assimilation this long.  
  
Picard. The artificial life form Data. Janeway.  
  
Using the "prowess" they are so proud of to prevent from joining our perfection. It did not matter, because The Borg would prevail. The Borg always prevail. Resistance is futile.  
  
This time, there would be no mistakes. Cube 3244 will use the temporal gateway while still within Borg space and cross the distance to Sector 001 at a time when the "humans" are barely learning to use complex machines.  
  
There will be less technology to learn and culture to assimilate, but there will be no chance of future interference by the "Federation".  
  
The Borg cube hurtled through transwarp space toward its destination, a neutron star in a dead solar system. Not a product of conventional engineering, the nearly black cube was larger than almost any spaceship created by other species. It was purely functional in design, not incorporating any natural form into itself. To other species, it was unattractive and threatening. Attractiveness is irrelevant. Its purpose is to transport The Borg consciousness to remote areas, and assimilate those areas into the consciousness. To the Collective, it would be beauty, if beauty were not irrelevant.  
  
Space near the dead star seemed to stretch, then explode in light and released energy. The cube slipped through that transwarp portal and back into realspace. As it quickly moved closer to the star, the cube began to emit chronometric particles from its hull. The transwarp portal, instead of closing immediately, began to twist and draw nearer to the cube as it absorbed the temporal energies. It was unimportant, however. The Borg ignored the unusual phenomenon.  
  
A temporal rift began to form. Through the rift, one could see the dead star as it was a millennium ago, if one were looking. The Borg only saw the immediate task-increase the size and strength of the rift to accommodate the cube. It required much more power than a sphere ship, but that was irrelevant. The cube had all the power it could ever need.  
  
The rift grew larger, rotating in hues of blue and white. A temporal wake began to form, streaking past the cube like the tail of a comet. The wake began to interact with the transwarp energy from the unclosed portal, and drew it across space like a ravenous shark on a fishing line, toward The Borg cube.  
  
The cube had begun to cross through the portal, when suddenly, it was pulled backwards into the new time/space portal. The temporal rift began to waver from its perfectly round form and stretch in several directions at once. The Collective had no information on what was happening, so it increased propulsion and chronometric particle output to compensate for the drag. That action pulled the time/space portal over the cube like a hood, erasing it from this place in time and space. The time/space portal, having absorbed its energy source, collapsed violently, emitting a subspace shockwave.  
  
That shockwave struck the temporal portal, causing it to collapse irregularly. Instead of flashing out of existence, the resulting subspace shockwave struck the neutron star, squashing it like gelatin, and hurling it toward the galaxy's core. Another part of the shockwave disrupted the fusion reactions in a nearby yellow star, causing it to collapse upon itself and explode, wiping out all planets in the system (all Borg planets).  
  
The Collective regarded the loss of twenty-five cubes and seven planets to be irrelevant. There were more systems to assimilate and ships to build. 


	2. Witness To Alderaan

The Empire was known for its grandeur. The Emperor sat at the top of the tallest building in the largest city in the galaxy. The arrowhead-shaped Imperial Star Destroyer was larger than any other battleship ever built, and by far, the most heavily armed. The secretly-build Super Star Destroyer made the Imperial Star Destroyer look like a small tow ship.  
  
Yet, no other artificial construction was larger, or more powerful, than the Death Star. The size of a small moon, and shaped as such, the quadanium steel gray space station/starship was not only the ultimate tool to spread the Empire's might, but it was a thing to be feared by all creatures in the galaxy. At least, it would be when it was unveiled to the population of the Empire, and after it was fully operational. With a huge planet-smashing superlaser and countless anti-cruiser turbolaser batteries, it was invincible, seemingly flawless.  
  
The Death Star sat in its current location, about 5 parsecs away from the former location of the planet Despayre. The prison planet for aliens, whom the Emperor despised, was deemed to be too great a risk to leave in existence, as that was where the Death Star was built. Who could trust Wookiee slaves to not tell a Rebel about any design flaws they had seen while building the station? The order to test the Death Star by destroying the planet was an easy one for its commander.  
  
In the command tower at the north pole of the station, a tall, gray-haired man stood musing. It had been his order to destroy Despayre and all its inhabitants, and he had not given it a second thought. Grand Moff Tarkin, whose authority was surpassed alone by the Emperor and Darth Vader (though he refused to accept the latter) was trying to decide how to deal with his latest guest.  
  
"Perhaps she will respond to an alternative form of persuasion," he said to no one in particular.  
  
To his right, a lower-echelon governor straightened up in pride and anticipation. To his left stood a two-meter tall figure in gleaming black armor. Darth Vader, the Sith apprentice of Darth Sidious, now known as Emperor Palpatine, turned his head toward Tarkin and said, "What do you mean?" His artificial voice, so deep and commanding, sent chills through all that heard it, for it betrayed the immense power behind it. Only Tarkin was not intimidated by the Dark Lord of the Sith.  
  
Tarkin turned to Vader with an anticipative look in his eyes. "I think it is time we demonstrate the full power of this station." To the other man, "Set your course for the Alderaan system."  
  
"With pleasure, sir," was the underling's reply as he rushed to carry out the Grand Moff's order.  
  
Vader tilted his head back slightly, and said, "Alderaan is a major planet in the Empire. The Emperor should be informed before it is targeted."  
  
Tarkin looked right into Vader's visual scanners. "You are right, of course. If you would make that communication…although I'm sure the Emperor will agree. The Senate is no more, and Alderaan's representation betrays its distaste with the order of the Empire. I think it shall be an excellent announcement of the existence of this station."  
  
Vader mused for a second. "Yes, I see your point. This shall be an…interesting test." With that, Vader turned and walked toward the turbo elevator, his destination: the Princess' cell.  
  
The hyperdrive engines at the Death Star's equator lit up brightly, and, in a motion previously thought impossible for an object its size, the Death Star streaked away toward Alderaan in a flash of pseudomotion.  
  
Closer to Alderaan, space seemed to twist and warp as if it were being pushed aggressively from behind. Without warning, a hole broke through the space-time continuum, allowing a twisted mass of metal through before the hole repaired itself.  
  
The material ejected though the hole had once been a Borg cube. However, travel through the unstable space-time rift it had inadvertently created had compressed, stretched, and vaporized parts of it, making it look like a huge interstellar junk heap.  
  
At first, it seemed dead. Then, a few lights flickered on. It slowed, then stopped its spinning motion through space.  
  
Inside, the Collective regained consciousness. It assessed the damage to the ship, and found that several thousand drones had been vaporized, crushed, or torn apart by the immense stresses put upon the ship. No matter- there were hundreds of thousands more drones, and the queen had survived.  
  
She could not even begin to determine what had happened, because all sensors died when the second rift that had pulled them from the time rift touched their hull. But she could assess the damage. All but corrective propulsion was out, weapons and tractor beams were leaking plasma energy, and life support was gone in ten percent of the ship. The neural net connecting half the drones to her command net were out; she sent a legion of drones to repair that damage, then sent the remaining repair drones to the propulsion systems.  
  
She also ordered repairs on the sensor net, and within minutes, the Collective could scan the space around them. They saw a planet, several hundreds light-years away, but accessible. It did not match the Collective's profile of Sector 001. It was, however, the same type of planet as Earth, and contained millions of life forms and advanced technology. It would be the first Borg planet in this sector.  
  
The star formations did not match any of those in the Collective's database. They could detect no known communication signals, nor any trace of The Borg's immense transwarp conduit network. They would be limited to standard warp travel, which would be only a temporary delay in the assimilation of this sector.  
  
Hours later, the sublight propulsion systems were operational. The cube began to lurch slowly toward its target. Time was irrelevant. All species will become one with The Borg.  
  
As the cube moved on further, systems began coming back online. Weapons. Tractor beams. Communications. The ship was morphing, twisting and stretching its way back into the shape of a cube. Many hours passed, and as they did, the ship began to gain speed. Finally, moving at several tens of thousands of times the speed of light, its target was less and less time away.  
  
Suddenly, a huge gray sphere appeared out of empty space near the planet. The cube stopped abruptly and scanned the newcomer. It was 120 kilometers in diameter and seemed to be emitting an intensely powerful energy signature. The Collective could not understand how it simply appeared there without a trace, so The Borg sat and waited.  
  
In the command tower of the Death Star, Tarkin stood at his place of command. His chief advisor, Admiral Motti, walked militarily up to him and said, "We've entered the Alderaan system…" then turned to see a pair of new arrivals. He backed away slightly, nervously. Tarkin turned as well and was greeted with the smirking visage of a young woman, not even twenty years of age, looking at him with knowingly accusing eyes, and the giant polished mask of Lord Darth Vader. The woman's hair was dark brown, drawn into buns on either side of her head. Her pure white robe and untarnished skin betrayed her royal heritage. She was Princess Leia, former Imperial Senator from Alderaan, and Rebel sympathizer.  
  
"Governor Tarkin," she said with an accent mocking Tarkin's, "I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I sensed your foul stench the moment I was brought on board."  
  
Tarkin returned her smirk, looking down on her as both an elder and an executioner. "Charming, to the last." He touched her chin. "You don't know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life."  
  
She shook his hand off with a quick twist of her neck. "I'm surprised you found the courage to take the responsibility yourself."  
  
Tarkin returned to his normal military stance. "Princess Leia," he said, being careful to mispronounce her name as 'Lee-ah', "before your execution I wanted you to be present at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."  
  
Leia shook her head and interjected, "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers."  
  
"Not after I have demonstrated the power of this battle station," Tarkin interrupted sharply. He raised one finger and pointed at her. "In a way, you have helped me determine the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to tell me the location of the Rebels' secret base," he turned toward the view screen, "we are going to test this station's destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan."  
  
"No!" she cried suddenly. "Alderaan is peaceful! We have no weapons! You can't possibly…"  
  
"You prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!" Tarkin was now barking out those orders, clearly agitated.  
  
Leia backed up, forgetting for a second that Vader was right behind her. She bumped into him, and looked at the floor. She couldn't give up the Rebellion, not even for her father or her planet. But maybe she could buy some time…  
  
"I grow tired of asking this, so it will be the last time." Tarkin's voice was quieter and sterner now. "Where is the location of the Rebel base?"  
  
Leia looked back at her home planet on the view screen. She had to try. "Dantooine," she said, defeated. Choking back a sob, she repeated, "They're on Dantooine."  
  
Tarkin looked up at Vader with victory on his face. "There. You see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable". Then, to Motti, "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."  
  
"WHAT?!" cried Leia.  
  
Tarkin turned back to her and smirked again. "You are far too trusting. Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration but don't worry. We'll deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."  
  
"No…" Leia moved forward to plead with Tarkin to spare her people, but Vader's hand was tight on her shoulder, holding her back firmly.  
  
Seconds later, she watched a bright yellow beam lance out from the bottom of the view screen and strike Alderaan. The blue and green planet exploded suddenly, debris and a small shockwave radiating away from what used to be the center of the planet.  
  
"Noooooooo!" Leia cried. She tilted her head up and cried out loud for all the souls of her people who had just died, including her beloved father. She then dropped her head, tears dripping out of her eyes onto the cold steel floor.  
  
Delighted at her reaction, Tarkin looked at Vader and said, "Take her away. We'll let her think about her people for a while before her termination."  
  
Vader nodded and led the sobbing princess away. Tarkin, wearing a rare smile, turned back to the view screen and listened to Motti's report.  
  
"Sensors show total annihilation of the planet. Effects of the explosion are insignificant to us or any other systems."  
  
"Just as predicted," murmured Tarkin. "Hold position here, but plot a course to Dantooine so we can leave at a moment's notice. Admiral Varley, send a fleet of Star Destroyers to Dantooine to take care of that rebel base."  
  
  
  
The Borg cube sat and watched the spherical vessel. It could detect some type of power buildup in the alien vessel, a kind unfamiliar to the Collective. Normally, The Borg would have approached the vessel and stated its demands, but this phenomenon that had sent them to wherever they were made them consider observing their new neighbor for the moment. Of course, it would be assimilated, but such a thing requires a secondary plan. The Collective prepared the sphere ship for launch, in case the unknown vessel posed a substantial threat.  
  
Then, without warning, a beam of golden energy leapt from the vessel to the planet. The planet exploded violently, spraying debris and rock across the area. A shockwave from the explosion struck the Borg cube, causing only minor damage.  
  
The Queen was surprised, then elated. She had not seen such powerful weaponry since species 8472 used a similar beam to destroy several Borg worlds. This was a technology The Borg would possess.  
  
She ordered the communications systems to listen in on all communications coming from the vessel. The Borg would learn their language so they could properly order them to surrender, or die. It was the same as any other encounter with a new species.  
  
She heard hundreds of transmissions over various bands of subspace: "…systems functional. Recharge sequence commencing…" "…systems five through one-eight-nine-nine clear of blast radiation…" "…magnetic shield disruption dissipated. Shield back to full strength and coverage…" "…you to report my friend? Tarkin has destroyed Alderaan, but the princess directed us to Dantooine. All rebel sympathizers should be as lucky as Alderaan when they are found…" "…found any escape ships in the area? No, Governor. Any ships launched would have been destroyed by the…"  
  
The universal translator they had assimilated from Picard's ship when they first met definitely had its uses. It was time to make themselves known. 


	3. Irresistible Force, Immovable Object

The Death Star stood in its silent triumph. Although this was not the first planet it had destroyed, it was inevitable that knowledge of its presence and power had already spread to every corner of the galaxy, just because it was Alderaan that had been annihilated. The ultimate power. Not even the mythical Force could destroy a planet.  
  
To the gigantic Death Star, the Borg cube seemed tiny, insignificant. As it approached, the cube ran into the Death Star's tractor network. Thousands of tractor emitters on the surface of the battlestation worked in tandem to pull any vessels within range into the hangar bays. The Borg felt the pull of the wide beam tractor array, and it easily dissipated it at its hull. No one may use a tractor beam against The Borg. The cube moved closer to the Death Star, at its own pace.  
  
On board the Death Star, the chief tractor operator blinked in surprise. He had just gotten a report that something had disrupted the tractor net in sector 972. If the disruption continued, it could take out a tractor generator, bringing the whole system down. That could mean his head.  
  
He called for his commanding officer, a durasteel–stiff major with a thin, neatly trimmed moustache and a long, pointed nose. The major marched over to the tractor operator's station and, looking down his nose, said, "What is it, lieutenant?"  
  
"Sir, there's a disruption in the tractor net in sector 972. I can't tell what has caused it."  
  
The major sniffed and said, "Are any of the tractor generators out?"  
  
"No, sir," the operator said meekly. "That would take down the whole tractor net."  
  
The major shot him an I-know-that-you-ignorant-peasant look. "I'll inform the sensor station to look in that area for anything that could have caused it. Meanwhile, keep that tractor net up."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
The major marched back to his station and, leaning over straightly, toggled his comlink. "Sensing station 14, this is Major Tagge. Do you copy?"  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Rolet here."  
  
"Commander, please check sector 972 of the tractor net. Something is disrupting the net in that area."  
  
"Copy," came the reply. "Scanning. Detecting a high-intensity disruption field and…what the…?"  
  
Tarkin sat in his office, talking to Vader, who was standing.  
  
"Word of the destruction of Alderaan has reached most Imperial worlds. Most regional governors have declared a state of martial law to handle any protests and to weed out the Rebel elements."  
  
"Excellent," Vader replied. "You have done well, Governor. The Emperor is most pleased with your actions. However, I do not believe I have to remind you that this station is property of the Emperor, and final word on its use rests with him."  
  
"You needn't remind me of that, Lord Vader," Tarkin said in his most friendly tone possible. "My loyalty to the Empire and the Emperor are unwavering and absolute."  
  
"No suspicions, Governor. Again, I am here to preserve the Emperor's…interests in the matter of the Rebels."  
  
The door chime rang.  
  
"Speaking of which," said Tarkin, "that should be the report from Dantooine." He pressed the button to open the door.  
  
Admiral Varley entered, obviously nervous. He stood at attention at the other side of Tarkin's huge desk. "Our scout ships have reached Dantooine. They found the remains of a Rebel base, but they estimated it has been deserted for some time. They are conducting a search of the surrounding systems." He clicked his heels and quickly left, to avoid Tarkin's rage.  
  
"She lied!" Tarkin exclaimed to Vader. "She lied to us!"  
  
Vader was fortunate the look of satisfaction on his face was hidden by a mask. "I told you she would never consciously betray the Rebellion."  
  
Tarkin stood up, his jaw set and his eyes ablaze. "Terminate her! Immediately!"  
  
Suddenly, Vader placed a hand to his temple, and leaned against Tarkin's desk. Tarkin, still angered, was now confused at the usually stolid Vader's loss of composure.  
  
"What is wrong?" he asked impatiently.  
  
"Ah…" Vader stuttered, "…a great…emptiness. Impassiveness. Neither Dark nor Light…they are here…"  
  
"Who?" demanded Tarkin.  
  
Just then, the door chime rang again. Tarkin pressed the door button and barked out, "Yes?!"  
  
Major Tagge entered, feeling extremely nervous not just to be in Tarkin and Vader's presence, but also when they were both obviously agitated. So this is why his uncle, the general, gets nervous at staff meetings. He prayed this would not be his last hour of life.  
  
"Sir, ah, there is a report that something has broken through our tractor net. Sensors show it to be a vessel of some kind."  
  
"Have they responded to the standard hails?"  
  
"No, sir. The ship just keeps moving toward us at a speed of one thousand kilometers a second." The major handed Tarkin the report. Tarkin looked at it and his brow furrowed.  
  
"Any record of any ship of this configuration?"  
  
"No, sir. None."  
  
Tarkin immediately headed out of his office, Vader right behind him. The major stood there for a second, dumbfounded. Then he remembered to go back to his station.  
  
Tarkin arrived back at the command room and ordered the visitor to be brought up on the viewscreen. His brow furrowed when he saw the vessel- nearly a perfect cube shape, dark gray in color. He also noticed that it has stopped dead at four thousand kilometers away from the surface of the Death Star.  
  
"Send a transmission," ordered Tarkin. "Inform them that if they do not respond, they will be attacked and boarded by order of the Empire."  
  
The black-helmeted tech standing in the circular array of command consoles immediately carried out the governor's order. Tarkin watched the screen intently, planning out the destruction of the alien cube if it did not respond promptly.  
  
Suddenly, all loudspeakers in the control room came to life, emitting the sound of not a single voice, but that of a thousand voices whispering in unison: "We are The Borg. We have analyzed your defenses and determined you are unable to defend yourself against us. Do not attack or you will be punished. Resistance is futile."  
  
Tarkin gritted his teeth. Aliens provoking him? Such fools. "Open fire."  
  
With that word, the surface of the Death Star lit up with turbolaser fire directed at The Borg cube. The blasts were powerful, blasting large portions of The Borg cube away into space. The Borg, on the other hand, simply held its position silently.  
  
The blasts began to cause less and less damage to the cube. Within moments, they simply exploded harmlessly against the surface of the cube.  
  
Tarkin spoke to the sensor tech, "Damage to the alien vessel?"  
  
"It appears to have received damage to thirty percent of its surface, sir," replied the nervous tech. "The damage it received started happening at a great rate, but it is no longer being damaged, although we are continuing fire."  
  
"How is that possible?"  
  
"I…I don't know, sir…"  
  
Tarkin clenched his teeth. He watched as the turbolaser blasts exploded harmlessly on the surface of the intruder. "Launch two squadrons of TIE fighters and fire ion weapons."  
  
The tech sent the order to all ion turrets. The ion cannons, instead of being designed to cause physical damage like turbolasers, were used to disrupt electrical circuitry in a target, opening their defenses for a quick capture or kill.  
  
Seconds after the order was made, the yellow particle packages flew from the Death Star's surface to The Borg cube. As the first few struck the cube, the lights visible through the exterior of the cube began to flicker. However, seconds later, they returned to full brightness. The Borg finally had been coaxed into action, or so it seemed.  
  
Just as the first fighters launched from their bays, a blue beam lanced out from the Borg cube, focusing on a small section of the Death Star. A smaller yellow beam cut out a circular section of the space station and the Borg tractor beam drew the section onto the cube.  
  
"Governor!" cried one of the techs. "The alien ship has cut away a section of levels 56 to 58 and is…"  
  
"When will the primary weapon be charged?"  
  
Tarkin was now absolutely enraged with the failures of their attacks, and the success of the single, weak attack from the aliens. The veins in the governor's forehead stood out as his eyes widened and his nostrils flared.  
  
The tech checked his readout. "Four hours, twenty-five minutes, sir."  
  
"How long until it can be fired?"  
  
The tech made a few calculations and said, "Thirty-one minutes, but at only five percent power."  
  
"Enough to destroy them," Tarkin growled. "Increase charge rate as high as possible. I want to fire in fifteen minutes."  
  
The helmeted tech looked at the governor with surprise, who returned the look with a silent death threat. Instead of warning the Grand Moff about overloads and such, the tech simply gulped, "Yes, sir."  
  
"Status on the fighter attacks," ordered Tarkin.  
  
"Sir," reported the flight commander, "they're being decimated."  
  
The tiny ships launched by their opponent swarmed like insects around the cube ship, firing laser weapons that did no damage against any part of the cube. The cube fired broad blue beams, waving them around its surface, like fly swatters. Each fighter that was touched by the beam was instantly vaporized.  
  
As the fighter pilots saw the fate of their fellow pilots, they now concerned themselves completely with avoiding the blue death. Hundreds of them, in trying to escape one beam, flew right into another, dying without even knowing what had hit them.  
  
The Queen watched from her perch among the tubing and piping and power conduits. Her body, only existing from the breastbone up, glistened like that of a reptile. Her dark eyes shone in the dim light of The Borg ship's interior. A small smile curled on her lips.  
  
We have adapted. We will prevail.  
  
The Borg, as always had analyzed the aliens' technology and found it to be primitive, if unique. They had scanned and studied, and know their attackers. Now, on to the next step. Assimilation.  
  
Sections 1 through Alpha 3, commence repairs immediately. Units Zeta 9 and Omega 7 begin invasion. Prepare tractor and cutting beams.  
  
The commands were transmitted to the drones at the speed of thought. Immediately, throughout the ship, there was the sound of drones disconnecting from their regeneration alcoves and marching toward their assigned repair areas.  
  
Other drones had no sooner awoken from their sleep-like regenerative state than they vanished in transporter beams. The Borg invasion had begun. 


	4. Infestation

"INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!"  
  
"What is happening?" demanded Tarkin. Motti immediately leaned over a console and read the reports.  
  
"Sir! We have reports of intruders simply…appearing throughout the station! Engineering, hangar bays, weapon controls!"  
  
"What kind of intruders are they?"  
  
"The intruders are from that ship," said Vader, pointing toward the view screen. "They are the same emptiness, the same nonbeings, that I felt when that ship came close."  
  
Before Tarkin could reply, a green glow appeared on one side of the command room. All heads turned to witness what looked marginally humanoid. It had pale, blotched skin visible on its head and one arm, but the rest of it looked like black devices. Not like Vader's suit, for that was all it was- an outer shell that could be removed. This creature, on the other hand, seemed to be one with the devices attached to it; they moved and throbbed just like a living organism.  
  
"Halt!" ordered the nearest stormtrooper, leveling his blaster rifle at the cyborg. The trooper's shiny white armor contrasted with The Borg's dull black appearance.  
  
The Borg simply ignored the command and turned toward the nearest computer console. As it began its march, the stormtrooper fired his weapon. The blast struck The Borg square in the back, dropping it to the floor immediately. Its small servos could be heard whirring for a few more seconds before it fell silent.  
  
"Get that out of my command room!" ordered Tarkin.  
  
Suddenly, the computer consoles began to blink and spark wildly.  
  
"The intruders are interfacing the main computer!" shouted Motti, obviously shocked.  
  
In the main computer room, a drone stood at a computer interface, its tool- augmented left hand touching the panel. Sparks jumped between The Borg's arm and the console. Computer records flashed across the screen faster than the eye could see. Meanwhile, three stormtroopers were firing their blaster rifles at the drone, the blasts being absorbed by the drone's form- fitting force field.  
  
One of the troopers missed the drone and shot the computer console instead. The console exploded in a flash of sparks, frying the drone's still- interfacing brain and sending it backward over a railing and into the endless main core shaft.  
  
Back in the control room, Tarkin was trying to take control of the situation, which was rapidly getting out of control. He hated anything contrary to control.  
  
"Lock out the main computer!" he ordered. "Mobilize all troops and clear the station of the invaders!"  
  
At the second he finished that sentence, two more drones appeared out of thin air. One kneeled over the fallen drone and removed several circuits. The other began marching toward Tarkin. All armed personnel, including Tarkin, began firing at the second drone, not noticing the dead Borg as it vanished, leaving a humanoid-shaped burn mark on the floor.  
  
The blasts were first absorbed by the drone, making its force field glow slightly red. However, as they continued blasting, the force field began to glow yellow, then white. Finally, it shattered, allowing nearly a hundred blaster bolts to strike the drone, vaporizing it.  
  
The remaining drone stood and pointed its prosthetic right arm at Vader. Vader flew at the drone, using the Force to propel him. Within a second, he had ignited his blade, cut the drone into three pieces, and landed at the ready stance, his saber glowing red in his hands, waiting for his next target.  
  
Ten more drones appeared. Vader lashed out before anyone else could react, and was only able to cut down two more drones before his saber could no longer penetrate the drones' force fields. Five of them marched in a line toward him. Vader extinguished his blade and, hilt still in his hand, rammed his two fists together in front of him. The five drones were rammed into each other by an invisible force and were crushed to a bio-mechanical pulp.  
  
Two more drones appeared, one at either side of Tarkin. Before he knew they were there, one grabbed his arm and touched its mechanical arm to his neck. Tarkin's eyes grew heavy, and he grunted as The Borg stunner relaxed his system. One second later, the two drones and Tarkin vanished in the Borg transport beam. One second after that, all other remaining living drones were transported away. The dead drones were vaporized.  
  
Everyone in the command room regained their bearings. The battle had started and ended so quickly that only Vader could hold his composure.  
  
"Motti!" boomed Vader. "What happened to the intruders?!"  
  
"I…I…I don't know, sir!" Motti was looking around, as if he had forgotten where he was. Vader marched past him, threw him aside in disgust, and looked at the console himself, ignoring the corpse of the tech, whose head had been blown off by crossfire. Reports were coming in that the alien invaders had vanished from the station as quickly as they had appeared. Apparently, there had been a large number of strange transmissions from the alien ship both when the creatures appeared, and then again when they had disappeared. Vader thought for a second. Some type of matter transporter? Imperial researchers had been experimenting with them for years, unsuccessfully.  
  
They were dealing with a species that had access to at least some superior technology. However, they did not, nor could ever, have access to the Force. He was sure of it. That was the Empire's advantage. That was his advantage.  
  
He could not destroy the Borg ship with a thought. He did not believe that even the Emperor was that powerful.  
  
"Recall all remaining fighters. Bring the fleet here," ordered Vader. The Borg that had come onto the Death Star seemed to be the same as their ship outside. They would take damage at first, but then seemingly adapt to the weapons. But even after a drone had adapted, it was not invincible to an immense volume of weapon fire. It was pointless to fire conventional weaponry at The Borg, so they would have to wait until they could bring the primary weapon to firing power.  
  
"Tarkin has been captured by the enemy and likely killed," stated Vader to all present. "I am now in command of this station. Cease all fire at the alien ship and recall all fighters. Target the alien ship with the primary weapon and fire once firing charge is reached."  
  
"The targeting systems were not designed to fire at anything as small as a ship, sir," replied Tarkin's aide. Vader whipped around and grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him off the floor.  
  
"Then modify them to be able to target the ship!" he said, the fury boiling in his voice. The crunching and snapping of the aide's windpipe echoed throughout the silent control room, and Vader threw him to the ground. Two black-suited guards promptly removed both the corpse of the aide, and then the decapitated body of the tech.  
  
Everyone rushed to complete Vader's orders. Motti, knowing full well Vader's wrath, also snapped to it, making himself busy. He imagined he felt again that squeezing in his throat…or maybe he wasn't imagining. Either way, he had no desire to anger Vader ever again.  
  
On board the Borg cube, Tarkin, now fully aware and conscious, was being led through dark corridors, past drones that were effecting repairs, removing dead and damaged drones, or simply regenerating. He was stopped at the end of the corridor, where he stood looking down a seemingly infinite number of rows of Borg alcoves on an infinite number of levels. At the end, directly in front of him, he thought he could almost see space, perhaps held out by some type of force field.  
  
The air in the Death Star was kept at a cool sixteen degrees centigrade to optimize functioning of the various 'droids, computers, and mechanisms of the station. It also helped keep the Imperials from sweltering in their heavy uniforms. Here, however, he was downright sweaty. The air felt near body temperature, and the humidity almost made it unbearable for a man from a cool-to-temperate world.  
  
Tarkin waited, presumably to be either executed, or to meet with the leader of these aliens. Finally, he spoke to the din, "Who are you, and how dare you attack an Imperial space station and assault an Imperial governor!"  
  
The reply he heard surprised him. The same voices as over the comlink, all chanting in unison: "Grand Moff Tarkin of the Galactic Empire, you speak now for your race."  
  
"You will all be destroyed for this outrage! I demand to meet your leader!"  
  
"Your demands are irrelevant. There is no leader. We are The Borg." Their answer was chilling, enough to unsettle even the iron-hard Tarkin. "This place in unfamiliar to us. We require a voice; a connection between us and the beings here. You have been chosen to be that voice."  
  
Tarkin's eyes lit up with his inner fire and rage. "I will never betray my Emperor! I will not assist you, and will do everything in my power to ensure you are destroyed!"  
  
"Betrayal is irrelevant. Assistance is irrelevant. Resistance is futile. We will add your distinctiveness to our own."  
  
"I will die first!"  
  
"Death is irrelevant."  
  
Tarkin, attempting to hold his stern composure, stiffened up and raised his head, looking down his nose at the endless rows of sleeping Borg drones.  
  
"You would have power beyond your wildest dreams," cam a new, single voice. Female, silky and seductive. Surprised, Tarkin's brow furrowed as he looked around for the source of the new voice. It came from everywhere.  
  
"You will become one with us, one way or another." 


	5. Assimilation

Vader stood in the control room of the Death Star, intently watching the Borg cube on the view screen. At least, so it seemed to the other people in the room with him. Through the Force, Vader was trying to touch the minds of the aliens, to predict their next move.  
  
He left the presence of his ruined, mostly mechanical body, flowing on a tide of pure anger; the anger that fueled the Dark Side. He searched the Borg cube for one, one that seemed in command. However, there was only one individual on board, and that was clearly Tarkin. He could not sense any others, yet there must have been, since some of the aliens had used their matter transporters to take Tarkin and their own soldiers back to their ship.  
  
Vader then decided to widen his perspective, to look beyond individuals and see if some greater, non-corporeal mind was controlling them. What he felt next was like nothing he had ever seen, heard about, or even imagined before.  
  
The emptiness he felt was because none of those beings were truly alive. Their bodies had no midichlorians inside them. They were not of this galaxy, possibly not even of this universe. And, their "minds" were not contained within their bodies. All their consciousness was woven into one single will, a collective consciousness, as it were.  
  
Even when individual soldiers died, their minds still existed within the collective. A consciousness consisting of millions of minds, yet controlling all of those minds as well. Vader held himself back from delving in too deep, for fear that he would lose himself in the overpowering complacency that was The Borg collective. He saw their plans, even their very thoughts. Assimilate. Grow. Learn. Control.  
  
They had no concern for individuals. Their one goal was to absorb all knowledge and technology in existence and spread themselves until they were all that exists in the universe. All will be Borg. Resistance is futile. Resistance is futile. Resistance is futile.  
  
Vader shook off the mind-numbing effects of the collective's monotone whisper. A weak mind would succumb easily to it, but Vader's was no weak mind. He was also assisted by the Dark Side, making him powerful enough to withstand delving fully into the collective.  
  
One consciousness must be more powerful than all the others. That consciousness must be the embodiment of the collective, and all its actions. He plunged into the collective, searching for this mind. He flew past ship operations, assimilation objectives, individual drone commands, to the very heart of the collective. There must be a central point. Must be…  
  
Intruder! Intruder! Alien mind attempting to enter the collective! Reject!  
  
Vader's consciousness struck the metaphysical equivalent of a transparisteel wall. He had been carelessly shooting through the collective without watching for such traps. He was flung out of the collective so forcefully that when his consciousness arrived back at his body, he staggered backward for a second. He shook his head, ignoring the others in the command room. Those others, likewise, were trying to ignore the Dark Lord's moment of weakness, for fear that they would be strangled from a distance, or worse.  
  
Vader reflected on what he had seen. They would not stop until they had assimilated everything. They could adapt to all physical weapons, but he knew that they could be infiltrated by the Dark Side, given the right tactics. However, they had only seen what the Death Star was capable of. They could not adapt to what they had not experienced firsthand, especially not a weapon as powerful as the Death Star's superlaser.  
  
The superlaser would come first, and if that did not work, Vader was confident he could use the Dark Side to annihilate The Borg. He had trained under Palpatine for years. He had read Palpatine's books on the Dark Side and its potential. He was sure he could muster all his Dark Side strength to conjure up a Force storm to wipe every Borg out of existence.  
  
He checked the tech station's chronometer. Only minutes to go before the superweapon could be fired. The end to this battle was near.  
  
"Who are you?" Tarkin demanded. Now that he knew there was a single leader, he was not nearly as unnerved.  
  
"I am the collective consciousness of The Borg."  
  
"I demand you show yourself!"  
  
The female voice laughed slightly, not mockingly, but rather patronizing in its tone. "You are not in much of a position to make demands. Others have made demands of us, but they have been assimilated. Or destroyed," she added, almost an afterthought.  
  
Tarkin heard motion above him. He was not prepared for what he saw. A humanoid female torso, with pale skin and a silver spine extending from its bottom, was being lowered by a set of tubes. She said, "I am the beginning, the end. The one who is many. I am The Borg."  
  
Her torso was lowered into a mechanical body standing a few mere meters from where Tarkin stood. He hadn't noticed the gleaming black form until this moment. When the torso was fully seated in the body, the body seemed to grab onto the torso, and the tubes all released and retracted. She walked toward Tarkin with a distinctly female gait, and a rather sexy stride at that.  
  
He looked at her face. Thin and beautiful, her head was surprisingly small, as if she had been a very petite woman in a previous life. Now her skin shined like the scales of a Trandoshan, and tubes connected the back of her head to her middle back. Her eyes, large and black, were almost hypnotizing. Tarkin's heart started beating more quickly. If he had ever seen the epitome of beauty, she could have been it.  
  
But his first duty was as an officer of the Empire, and he would not abandon his duty. He was concerned, however, with the Death Star. In mere moments, it would fire the superlaser, assuming Vader did not change the plan. Once that happened, The Borg would be destroyed. Tarkin did not intend to be on The Borg ship when that happened.  
  
"Your attack on an Imperial space station is an act of war. An act that will bring the entire Empire upon you, and you will be destroyed. Therefore, I demand you return me to my station and surrender. If you do so, I promise your death will be quick."  
  
Tarkin's voice wavered through part of his speech. He did not have any sort of feelings through that "Force" that Vader kept babbling about, but he could still sense the immense power emanating from this woman. So delicate, yet so strong.  
  
"You see, Governor Wilhuff Tarkin," said the Queen, surprising Tarkin with the use of his little-known first name, "we have no intentions of surrendering. We are The Borg. We will prevail over all. But this place is new to us. We do not know how we are here, but it is definitely alien to us. We need a liaison between The Borg and the peoples of this galaxy."  
  
Tarkin stiffened up, ready to die for refusing to help them.  
  
The Queen continued, "We have read the records of your 'Death Star', including those of your tactical genius and your many victories over unfavorable odds. We also read your own personal files, your own feelings of how you wish to control the galaxy and your frustration at having to submit to a non-military wizard, whom you call 'Emperor Palpatine'. Such authority-based structures are obsolete. The Borg are of one mind, and I am that mind. No training of officers, no having to deal with each person's inefficiencies and mistakes. The Borg make no mistakes."  
  
For the first time, Tarkin was truly caught off-guard. His military demeanor faltered, and his mouth dropped open. They knew. They had seen the thoughts no one else knew about. Vader and the Emperor had had their suspicions of him, but this woman had read him as easily as a datapad.  
  
True, he was frustrated. He was the best tactician in the galaxy, better than the Emperor and Vader combined. The problem was, he was only human, not some super powerful mutant that could manipulate some "Force" to get what he wanted. He deserved to control the Empire. But he knew the chances of that were slim, unless both Vader and Palpatine were eliminated permanently.  
  
"I…I am loyal to my Emperor," he said, not even convincing himself.  
  
"I don't want you as another drone, Tarkin," said the queen. "You have qualities we often lack, such as analytical thinking, and tactical ability. We have been delayed by other creatures who used those skills against us. We…I…want an individual mind, an equal to myself. One that can help The Borg spread and rule. It is not a position for the weak, which is why we have chosen you. You must give yourself to us if you want this power."  
  
Tarkin felt flashes through his mind of the power this one woman held. The Borg had infinite power, and infinite resources. He was aging rapidly, and he knew it. Nearing the end of his natural life. For all the Empire's medical technology, he would not live more than another forty years, and the last twenty would be in retirement, powerless and miserable. With The Borg, he could live forever. He would be The Borg. His power would be greater that a hundred Emperors.  
  
Tarkin could not resist. Resistance was futile. For all his loyalty, his ultimate goal was power, and he was about to be handed it.  
  
"Yes," said Tarkin. "I want the power. I will stand at your side, and help you bring order to the galaxy. The Empire is powerful, but that power is limited. I can see that The Borg are the true power in the galaxy now."  
  
The Queen smiled proudly. Finally, after so many failures, she had her equal. She stroked Tarkin's bony cheek with her hand. "Then it shall be so. We will add your distinctiveness to our own."  
  
One of the drones behind Tarkin reached out to his neck. A pair of tubes stretched from its fingers and impaled Tarkin's neck. Tarkin gasped with the quick pain, but the pain was immediately muted. The Queen, out of gratitude for Tarkin's willingness, blocked the usual pain of assimilation, and watched as the surprised look on his face melted away. The skin of his face tore in several places, and living machinery broke through and grew n the surface of his skin.  
  
Inside, The Borg nanoprobes touched Tarkin's brain. However, instead of losing all voluntary thought to the collective, Tarkin could now begin to hear all the voices of the collective. Harmonious, unified, organized. Like a smoothly-running machine. Filling his mind with the knowledge of centuries of conquest and thousands of cultures. Suddenly, his ability to think and calculate spread a thousandfold. He was no longer limited to three dimensions; he could think across five. He hadn't even been aware of a fifth dimension before. His recall ability became perfect. Unlike in a normal human where memories had the tendency to fade, his memories all became instantly accessible. His memories flowed out of his head and became the collective's, and the collective's memories flowed into his mind, making them his own. He could remember everything he'd ever seen, ever heard, every order he'd ever given…  
  
Suddenly, his voice shouted over the din of the collective, momentarily disrupting the Queen's train of thought.  
  
"We have to leave here! Now!" 


	6. Tactics of the Collective

"Ten seconds to firing capability, my lord," said the weapons tech.  
  
Vader watched his prey intently. He could not feel them for the moment, as he was still recovering from the shock of being ejected from the collective mind by his own anger. A vengeful wrath flowed through what was left of Vader's veins, helping his Dark Side powers to strengthen.  
  
"Five…four…three…"  
  
Suddenly, the cube moved. A quick, yet lazy motion. It spun around the vertical axis until an edge of the cube, not a face, was directed at the Death Star.  
  
"Two…one…mark!"  
  
Before Vader could give the order to fire, The Borg cube jumped away in pseudomotion. No flash of engines, it simply appeared to move away at high speed, then vanish.  
  
Vader watched the viewscreen for a second, then turned to Motti, who was standing a respectable distance away.  
  
"They…they must have predicted our readiness to fire," ventured Motti.  
  
"No," said Vader, approaching the obviously nervous Admiral. "I saw their mind, their purpose. They are not capable of such predictions. Tarkin must have told them."  
  
"N-no, my lord," stuttered Motti, knowing his death was soon, "Governor Tarkin is loyal to the Empire only…"  
  
Vader reached out and grabbed Motti by the throat, lifting him off his feet. Motti gasped for every molecule of air he could pull through his compressed windpipe as Vader's grip tightened.  
  
"You disappoint me again, Motti. I grow weary of having to teach you humility in my presence."  
  
Motti, on the verge of passing out of asphyxiation, mouthed an apology. To his surprise, Vader released his throat, dropping him to his knees on the cold alloy steel floor. He drank in gulps of air as if he were breathing for the first time in his life. Vader simply walked past him and said, "Don't disappoint me again, Motti."  
  
Vader strode up to the sensor tech and asked, "What was their last trajectory?"  
  
"My lord, their propulsion signature is like none we've ever seen. Normally, when a ship jumps to hyperspace, its propulsion trail is visible for only an instant before the ship enters hyperspace. The Borg ship never entered hyperspace. They are actually moving faster than light, within realspace." The tech explained, not knowing Vader's distaste for long explanations.  
  
However, Vader was intrigued. A small shadow of his past, the young adventure-seeker he once was, was curious about this new type of propulsion.  
  
He asked the tech, "What is their speed?"  
  
The tech replied, "At the instant they left our sensor range, their speed had leveled off at nearly ten thousand times the speed of light."  
  
Vader calculated for a second. Hyperdrive was not true faster-than-light travel. Rather, it pulled two points in space closer together in a parallel universe called hyperspace. There, distances between two points were drastically reduced. It was the temporary passing out of this universe that made a ship in hyperspace untraceable during flight. The Death Star's relative speed in hyperspace was several tens of thousands of times the speed of light, at least in realspace. And the Death Star was a relatively slow hyperdrive vehicle.  
  
"What was their heading?"  
  
The tech checked his astronomical chart readout, and said, "Their last known course would take them directly to…Coruscant, my lord." The tech's lips quivered. Coruscant, the seat of the Empire. If the Death Star couldn't defeat The Borg, Coruscant didn't have much of a chance.  
  
"Set an intercept course!" ordered Vader. "Place us directly in front of them, and prepare the main weapon to target them the instant they slow to sublight!"  
  
The Borg seemed very bold, but for all their haughtiness, they would not knowingly make a suicide plunge into the Death Star's surface. And, even if they did, the space station could probably survive the impact with no major damage.  
  
Moments later, the Death Star jumped to hyperspace, chasing down the foolish aliens who dared challenge the Empire.  
  
The Borg ship moved at its standard cruising speed, what was known in their galaxy as warp 9.995. Their destination was the home planet of the Empire, Coruscant. Tarkin had already begun to share his tactical and strategic genius with the cybernetic aliens.  
  
If Coruscant were destroyed or assimilated, even if the Emperor survived, there would be a period of mass confusion in the Empire. If the Emperor himself were destroyed, There were few that could take his place. Vader, for all his psychic powers and commanding presence, didn't have what Tarkin felt was needed to run an Empire. There were a few Grand Admirals and Grand Moffs that could probably rally the Empire back under one command, but The Borg will have had enough of a head start to be able to neutralize any central command structure that would try to marshal the Empire's forces. Tarkin's intimate knowledge of the structure of the Imperial command would be very useful to The Borg.  
  
He knew they were not accustomed to such a surgical attack on a culture's infrastructure. Normally, The Borg would simply assimilate the most convenient target, and then work its way to the core like a virus. Now that Tarkin held the reins of The Borg's conquest strategy, they would become a new definition of terror in the galaxy.  
  
The Queen watched him intently as he lay on the assimilation table. Tarkin was in a meditative trance, not unconscious, but not consciously aware of what the drones were doing to his body. His left eye had been removed and replaced with a multidimensional scanner/refractor. His skin, before slightly pale and human, was now nearly white with purple splotches. Both his hands had been left intact, for now, but his arms had been fitted with retractable scanners. And his physical strength, augmented by the deep- tissue penetration of The Borg nanoprobes, had been increased fivefold.  
  
Eventually, if Tarkin lived up to her expectations, she would have his consciousness fully integrated into the collective as hers was. Then, he could exist with multiple bodies across The Borg's domain, bodies with nothing but the essential components needed to house consciousness and interact with other species on a one-on-one basis. He would be a living torso with a fully mechanical body for locomotion, at his option.  
  
The Queen felt him call her through the voices of the collective. "My Queen," he said, "the Death Star can track us while we are at warp. Their hyperdrive can quickly overtake us if they have a good enough pilot guiding them. And Vader is one of the best."  
  
"You are concerned they will try to block our path," she cooed.  
  
"Yes," he replied smoothly. "Although we are very powerful, I sense that this ship does not have enough power to adapt to and survive even a low- powered blast from the Death Star's superlaser."  
  
"Yes, such a blast would overpower the limited energy generators on board our ship. Only one of our planet-wide power nets could generate enough power to deflect such a weapon."  
  
"That is why I believe we should make a change in our tactics for this mission," said Tarkin. "We could easily assimilate Coruscant if the Death Star were not in hot pursuit of us, which I can assure you they are.  
  
"If we make them believe they've destroyed us, even for a short time, that would give us the head start we would need to gain a foothold in the galaxy and create the new collective."  
  
The Queen listened to Tarkin's battle plan and was instantly satisfied. Surely, her choice of an Equal was correct.  
  
The Borg cube, now fully repaired from its rough trip across space and time, and then its battle with the Death Star, began to separate around its middle. Pipelines were disconnected and rerouted, the command network split itself into two fully-functioning systems, and the two halves separated themselves with the atmospheric and radiation forcefields that The Borg ships used instead of a less-efficient outer hull. The two halves morphed into two separate, perfect cubes. A capability The Borg had learned when it assimilated its first regenerative abilities, this was something they had not had opportunity to use in a millennium. The Queen oversaw the separation, and was proud of their infinite ability to adapt and change.  
  
The two cube ships flew together at the same trajectory for a moment. Then, the rear cube dropped out of warp and instantaneously shot off in a different direction. That cube, now carrying the bodies of Tarkin and the Queen, had a new mission.  
  
The first ship would be an effective, if expensive, diversionary tactic. But The Borg would prevail. 


	7. Hollow Victory

The Death Star dropped back into realspace seconds too late to know that the single Borg ship had become two.  
  
"Lord Vader," said the weapons operator, "we have the primary weapon trained on the alien ship's projected course. Ready to fire on your order."  
  
"My lord," said the scanner tech, "The Borg ship is projected to be within sensor range in thirty seconds. If they try to escape after dropping back to sublight, based on our telemetry, we will have about five seconds to fire."  
  
"Five second will be sufficient," boomed Vader. His confidence was not shared by the rest of the bridge staff, but all concerns were kept silent.  
  
"Twenty seconds…."  
  
The weapons operator straightened up, one hand on the firing control, the other on the target fine-tuning. Being the best starship gunner in the Imperial starfleet had gotten him this position. He would not fail.  
  
"Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One…Mark!"  
  
Nothing happened. No sensor blips, no warning shouts from ay scanner techs.  
  
Vader was surprised. Based on his impression of The Borg, they would not alter course to avoid any confrontation. Unless Tarkin had truly betrayed the Empire and given them…  
  
"Sir! The alien vessel has just entered long-range sensors. It is moving toward us at sublight," reported the sensor tech, relieved that he may yet live through the day.  
  
"Firing range in five seconds," said thed weapons tech. He had already tuned the superlasers crosshairs on The Borg ship, and was tracking it as it approached. His finger was on the button that would signal all superlaser stations to induce the weapons power. In their drills, it had taken four seconds for all stations to activate their portion of the laser. In essence, four seconds to fire the behemoth weapon.  
  
Vader said, "On my command…"  
  
Suddenly, the viewscreen popped to life. The barely-recognizable visage of Tarkin, with white blotchy skin hidden behind black tubing and a mechanical eye, appeared with a furrowed brow (he now only had one), and pursed lips.  
  
"Vader!" The Borg Tarkin barked. "I order you to stand down now, or be destroyed!"  
  
"Fire!" ordered Vader.  
  
The weapons tech tapped the firing conrol.  
  
On the large dish of the Death Star's main weapon, ten laser beams converged into a single point. From that point appeared a much more powerful beam, which headed toward The Borg cube at the speed of light.  
  
The cube merely continued its approach, heading directly into the weapon's path.  
  
The superlaser pierced the front facet of the cube ship, easily cutting through and vaporizing a cylinder that was, in diameter, about half the length of one of the cube's sides.  
  
The ship did not explode. Such was the power of the laser that the remains of the ship mostly vaporized, with small metal and organic particles, flash melted from the sheer intensity of the superlaser, were propelled away in all directions like confetti in a wind storm.  
  
The scanner tech reported before he needed to be asked. "Sensors show total destruction of the alien vessel. No life signs. Nothing of the ship larger than a fraction of a millimeter has survived."  
  
Motti hurried up to Darth Vader, slightly out of breath and haughtiness. "My Lord, the Emperor commands you to make contact with him."  
  
Without a word, Vader turned and walked away. He entered the lift and left from the control tower. There was a collective sigh of relief at Vader's departure. They would all live for now.  
  
Motti, however, upon taking the command position after Vader left, realized with a start that he had become Vader's second-in-command. He bit his lip and cursed silently to himself. He'd never heard of anyone surviving in that position for very long. But there was nothing he could do. He was the commander of this battle station, and Vader was the only one aboard with a higher rank than him. Motti planned to have an extra-strong drink when he retired to his quarters this evening.  
  
The weapons lieutenant leaned over the tech manning the superlaser console. The tech was shaking his head, his hands spread over the controls. The lieutenant tried operating the panel, then grimaced and stood straight and called, "Admiral Motti!"  
  
Motti shot the lieutenant a stern look. As servile as he had become to Vader (through pure self-preservation tactics), Motti was still in command, and demanded strict order from his subordinates. He glared at the lieutenant, who picked up the hint after about 2 seconds. The lieutenant quickly strode up to the Moff and stood straight at attention.  
  
"This is not a Nar Shaddaa marketplace, Lieutenant. I will not have my men shouting at me from across the command deck."  
  
"I'm sorry sir," said the lieutenant, briskly. "Sir, the primary weapon's targeting system is down. It was not designed for such tight precision, and when we forced it to do so, it probably overloaded the computer. We were not able to contact the central control station. It is possible the overload took out their intercom system."  
  
"Very well, then," said Motti. "Go down there yourself and take charge of the repairs. Report to me directly if the computer requires any major repairs. I do not wish to trouble Lord Vader with that issue unless absolutely necessary."  
  
"Yes, sir," said the lieutenant. He turned on his heel and headed toward the lift. By now, another lift car had taken the place of the one Vader had ridden, so the lieutenant started his ride down the several hundred sublevels to the vertex of the superlaser dish.  
  
The lieutenant finally arrived at the master targeting computer room, expecting to see dozens of technicians and droids working on the massive, multilevel computer, and white armor-clad stormtroopers guarding all entrances and exits.  
  
What he found instead was a massive, dark room completely devoid of any humans or droids. He reached for the light panel next to the door, but it had been replaced with a collection of glowing tubes that were warm and slick to the touch.  
  
He was also surprised by how warm and humid it was. Granted, he was no computer expert, but he was sure that such high temperatures and humidity were damaging to electronic equipment. He stepped further into the room, looking for any signs of life.  
  
"Technician In Charge, report!" he called out. Damn it, he was going to find out what the hell was going on here.  
  
A figure crept up behind him. The lieutenant heard what sounded like a mechanical breath, somewhat similar to that of Darth Vader. He spun around, only to be caught by the shoulder in a steel grip. He gasped, exactly one second before the figure's other hand raised to his neck. Twin tubes protruded from the hand's fingers, inserting themselves into the lieutenant's neck. He yelped in pain.  
  
The other hand let go of his shoulder and dropped him to the floor. He put a hand to his neck, and suddenly felt a searing pain spread throughout his body. He felt his flesh tear itself apart as something underneath ripped its way out. He lay on the floor convulsing slightly, doing all he could to distract himself from the pain.  
  
For a second, he caught a glimpse of the figure that had attacked him. The figure looked very similar to the ones he had seen on the command deck earlier. His jaw quivered, his breath short. He mouthed one word, before losing control of his body forever.  
  
BORG 


	8. Humble Beginnings

The Borg cube dropped out of warp. It had taken a circuitous route around the Kessel system to the far side of the interstellar phenomenon known as The Maw.  
  
A black hole is essentially a star that has collapsed upon itself and become so dense that it generates a gravity well powerful enough to stop light. The sheer power of a single black hole is enough to tear a hole in the fabric of space and time. The Maw was a large cluster of these phenomena.  
  
Though most spacefaring beings avoided The Maw, for fear of being drawn into one of its singularities and crushed into plasma, The Borg ship approached it directly. There was safe passage through The Maw, and Tarkin was one of the few in the galaxy that knew the route.  
  
To an objective observer, The Borg cube seemed to wink out of existence as it entered The Maw; the black holes' gravity held in the illumination of the ship.  
  
Tarkin had been given full control of the navigational system, which was now linked directly to his brain. He could pilot the cube ship at the speed of thought, making it possible to maneuver such a large ship in such a tight corridor.  
  
The Queen observed the efficiency, the precision, the pure perfection of The Maw. She saw how each singularity' accretion disk spun inward into the event horizons, releasing unbelievable energies into space. This would be the perfect home for the Collective in this new galaxy. Now that The Borg knew the safe path into the phenomenon, they could come and go as they please, with little concern of interlopers.  
  
Moments later, the cube ship emerged from the corridor into a large space, surrounded with the light of hundreds of black holes' accretion disks. Near the center of the space, the Queen saw a series of asteroids networked together with artificial conduits, four triangular-shaped vessels, and a large spherical-shaped object with its entire support skeleton exposed. If Tarkin was correct, this was a vast cache of advanced technology that even the Empire had not had access to for years. And that spherical skeleton: the prototype for the Death Star, complete with functional superlaser.  
  
Soon, mused the Queen, The Borg would spread across the galaxy. And not even planet-destroying lasers would be able to stop them.  
  
On the bridge of the Star Destroyer Gorgon, the crew had been performing one of their many combat readiness exercises when the sensor lieutenant shouted, "Admiral! Unidentified vessel has entered the installation perimeter at 007 Mark 25!"  
  
"On viewer!" ordered Admiral Daala. Daala was a tall woman with long brown hair. The only thing that detracted from her beauty was her cold, Imperial stare. As the only woman in a ranking position in the Imperial Starfleet, she had become cold and stony against her male subordinates over the years. Her viciousness against failure was only surpassed by that of the Emperor, Darth Vader, and Grand Moff Tarkin, although it was only known inside the separate universe of The Maw Installation.  
  
Such was the lieutenant's efficiency that the viewscreen flashed to life instantly. Anything slower would have been a death sentence for the lieutenant.  
  
Daala observed a geometrical figure shadowed by the bright black hole material behind it. It seemed to be heading directly toward them.  
  
"Enhance image."  
  
A second later, the shadowy image took better shape. She could see an edge of two facets pointed a them. The surface of the vessel was littered with piping, conduits, and exposed devices.  
  
"Ma'am, the intruder appears to be cube-shaped," reported the sensor lieutenant.  
  
Daala calculated in her mid for exactly three seconds. Then, she calmly ordered, "Battle stations. This is not a drill. All ships ready weapons and TIE fighters. Comm, send them this message: 'You have entered Imperial space and are ordered to identify yourselves and surrender. If you resist, you will be destroyed."  
  
Daala's four Imperial Star Destroyers deployed into attack formation, at the ready to fire weapons and launch fighter interceptors.  
  
"Tarkin," said the Queen, "they are readying to attack us."  
  
"As well you should, Daala," muttered Tarkin.  
  
The Queen looked sharply at her equal. Se sensed something new in him. Affection. Love. Irrelevant emotions. She must make sure they do not affect his loyalty to her.  
  
"Hail them," said Tarkin. Standing at a void in the center of the cube ship, Tarkin watched as a cube-shaped rotating viewscreen appeared in thin air. In it, he could see his lover, Daala, staring back at him with sudden surprise.  
  
"Daala," said Tarkin, "I see that you have done well in keeping the efficiency of your men." Small talk. Keep her off-guard. "There has been a civil war inside the Empire. The Emperor, Darth Vader, and all the Grand Admiralty have been murdered by treacherous Rebels inside the military. I am all that is left of the true Empire. I need to take control of this installation to stage the Empire reconquest of the galaxy."  
  
He saw the confusion in Daala's face, both at his words and at his bio- mechanical appearance. He needed not worry about her response. This dialogue gave The Borg more than enough time to transport drives over to the four Star Destroyers and the research base inside the collection of asteroids.  
  
Daala could not believe her eyes when she saw Tarkin's visage, partially blocked by black machinery, and one eye covered with a device that was unfamiliar to her. The man who had been her lover must have been seriously injured in some assassination attempt. However, despite her loyalty to Tarkin, she was still an Imperial Admiral and must be sure he told the truth of the Empire's current status.  
  
"Governor," Daala said through dry lips, "Forgive me, but I cannot see how the Empire could be defeated in such a few short years. Was the Death Star not successful?"  
  
"No, it was not," said Tarkin. "Lemelisk betrayed the Empire by reveling to the rebels a design flaw he had placed in the design, allowing them to gain full control of the station. I barely escaped with my life, in an attempt to warn the Emperor. However, I was not quick enough. Coruscant has been destroyed."  
  
Daala's heart skipped a beat. She had known from the beginning that such a powerful weapon would be an attractive target for any faction looking to take over the galaxy. Now, the home world of the Empire, and the entire Imperial command structure based there, had been destroyed. They may be all that stood between the Empire and total chaos.  
  
"Very well, Governor," said Daala. "What kind of ship are you traveling in? It is not one we have seen before."  
  
"Humans from the deep outer rim," said Tarkin. "We conquered them before the coup, and they chose to remain loyal to me."  
  
Daala thought for a second. This was all wrong. Her instincts told her that this was all some kind of ruse. Perhaps Tarkin had been cloned, or this was an impersonator she was speaking to. She had to be sure.  
  
"Governor," Daala said, "if it's all right, I would like to meet you onboard my ship to discuss this matter further. You will understand if I need some more clarification on the current state of affairs."  
  
"Of course, Admiral," said Tarkin. Perfect. This discussion had bought them the time they needed to implant drones all over the four Star Destroyers, The Maw base, and the spherical skeleton hanging in the background.  
  
"Admiral!" cried the comm. Lieutenant, "Reports from all ships and the installation! Intruder alert! Some type of soldiers have just…appeared everywhere!  
  
Daala was dumbfounded. There had been no reports of any other ships in the area. How did they…?  
  
"Tarkin! What is going on here?"  
  
Tarkin's visage smiled. "Don't worry about it, Daala. It is no longer your concern."  
  
Just then, a dozen Borg drones appeared on the bridge of the Gorgon. They immediately attacked the bridge crew with assimilation tubules, leaving the to writhe on the floor in agony. Daala whipped out her blaster pistol and began firing on the drones, to no effect. Their force fields protected them.  
  
One drone grabbed Daala from behind. She lashed out with all her might against the drones leg, trying to stun it, but its superior strength allowed it to absorb the blow, just as it injected assimilation nanoprobe into her throat. She collapsed to the floor, and rolled over to watch Tarkin's triumphant smirk in the viewscreen.  
  
"This channel is now open to all ships on all frequencies," said Tarkin. "We are The Borg. This installation now belongs to us. Any resistance is futile, and will be met with swift execution. The Empire's power will soon come to an end." With that, the viewer went blank.  
  
Daala, now lying on her back, closed her eyes tightly, letting hot tears flow out of them and over her temples to the back of her head. She hadn't thought it would end like this. She tried to reach for her blaster, to take her own life. However, her hands wouldn't respond. An entity was forcing its way into her mind. She could hear vague whispers inside her head, and she imagined them whispering about her utter failure as an Admiral to even keep four ships and a research station from enemy hands.  
  
The whispers grew louder. To her, it sounded like thousands, all speaking a strange language she could not understand. As she felt her body involuntarily relax, despite the searing pain running throughout, she began to understand the voices. Ordering her to remain still until the assimilation was complete. She didn't understand why at first, but she was compelled to comply. Not out of fear, but because she wanted to. The voices simultaneously frightened and soothed her.  
  
She felt her anguish slip away. Everything was all right. Her embarrassment at being taken by surprised vanished. Everything was good. Her bitterness against her make subordinates faded into the mist, then evaporated. Everything here was equal. None were discriminated against. Here, all were one. Loneliness does not exist. Take comfort in The Borg. The Borg will provide for you. The Borg The Borg are always with you. The Borg The Borg The Borg. Resistance is futile. Assimilation stage one complete.  
  
Stand.  
  
The Borg drone that had been Admiral Daala stood up.  
  
Survey.  
  
Drone Daala looked around, and noticed that all bridge crew had been assimilated, and were standing over the nearest stations, coordinating their drones in the lower levels of the ships, and in all ships, preparing them to be fully assimilated for use by The Borg.  
  
One last tear fell down Daala's face as her last shred of humanity left her. She had failed.  
  
Then, she started marching forward toward the tactical console, assisting the assimilated technician in powering down the shields and weapons, preparing the panel for a nanoprobe-equipped drone to fully assimilate it.  
  
Tarkin turned away from the space where the cubical viewscreen had been. He looked at the Queen with an expression of triumph on his face, augmented by her own look of pride at her new equal.  
  
The Queen was sure now of his loyalty. Her doubt had been for nothing.  
  
"Excellent, my one. I can see now that you are worthy to be my Locutus."  
  
"Your beloved," said Tarkin, with relish.  
  
Nothing had ever pleased him more than to have pleased his Queen. His ambition having been slowly and secretly leeched from him by the Queen, he felt no desire to eventually take full control of The Borg, as he had when he was part of the Empire. However, he did not even notice the slight change in his personality. She had purposefully orchestrated it all so that his less-desirable personality traits were removed, in favor of the many that she desired.  
  
The Queen began sending orders to the Collective. As she did so, she said to Tarkin, "We will first ensure total control of this installation and all vessels. Then, we will integrate our matter replication technology throughout, and use it to absorb and convert this installation into a true base for The Borg. With the energy being released from the material orbiting the black holes, we will be able to build thousands of ships and dispatch them across the galaxy. We will construct an interplexing communication network in the corridor of The Maw, allowing us to control the collective outside the installation, while remaining in this secure location. One Death Star will no longer be of any concern to us.  
  
"Besides," she continued, "the Death Star will soon become one with us." 


	9. Dark Force

Vader stepped out of his quarters, having been officially promoted by the Emperor to commander of the Death Star. He had grand plans for this station, and would not be afraid, as Tarkin was, to use its force indiscriminately.  
  
He was met by Motti's assistant. The commander stiffened and said to Vader, "My Lord, we have lost contact with the primary weapon computer room. None of the technicians we have sent there have reported back."  
  
Vader stood there for a second. Was it possible? He thought he had felt their presence disappear when the alien ship was destroyed.  
  
"Send a squad of stormtroopers there and have them wait," he ordered. " I will be there momentarily." With that, he strode off quickly toward the lift.  
  
When Vader arrived at the hatch to the computer room, two dozen stormtroopers stood waiting at attention.  
  
Vader stopped just before reaching them and said, "Advance inside and destroy any Borg you may find."  
  
"Yes, sir," said the squad commander. With that, the troopers marched through the door, which opened invitingly, a moment sooner than it should have. Vader followed, just in time to see the troopers being advanced upon by swarms of Borg drones.  
  
The troopers fired at the drones, but their fire was absorbed by the drones' shielding. Meanwhile, the drones, with their superhuman strength, quickly overpowered the troppers, assimilating or killing them.  
  
Vader nearly went for his lightsaber, but instead chose a different course of action. He dropped his hands to his sides, fists clenched so tightly he could feel the servos of is artificial hands whining under the strain. But he didn't care. The drones, for their part, ignored him. His weapon was not drawn; he was no threat at this time.  
  
Vader delved deep inside himself, drawing on his deepest anger and hate. His childhood in slavery. His former master, Obi Wan Kenobi, withholding knowledge from him in order to stunt his search for power. The murder of his mother. The Jedi that refused to allow him to be trained.  
  
With this anger, he found dark power the like of which he had never felt before. His skin burned and muscles tightened. He gathered every dark thought he could muster.  
  
The stormtroopers were faring badly. Only a few unassimilated troops had survived, and were using anything they could find as weapons. Chairs, computer terminals, even blaster rifles, were thrown at the drones.  
  
Suddenly, and ferociously, Vader raised his hands and cried out in rage. The power of the dark side within him made the air ripple around him, and spread to every corner of the room, then spread out throughout the whole station. As it passed over The Borg drones, they screamed in agony, their minds being literally vaporized inside their skulls.  
  
In seconds, all drones lay on the floor, twitching in death spasms. Since there were no minds left to populate a collective consciousness on the station, the Collective simply ceased to exist.  
  
Vader stood there, his arms in the air, and his armor smoking slightly from the sheer power he had released. He slowly lowered his arms to his side. His breathing slowed.  
  
If there had ever been a doubt before, there was none now. Darth Vader was truly a Dark Lord of the Sith.  
  
The remaining stormtroopers stood from their cover and looked at the dark lord. For fear of their lives, they began examining the computer equipment for damage.  
  
Vader ignored them, instead focusing on something else.  
  
Amazing. How could he have missed it? He had been so close. Perhaps his Dark Side vision had been clouded. No matter. The Emperor would be most pleased . That is, until Vader and his new ally destroy him.  
  
Vader strode off toward the elevator.  
  
He arrived at the detention block and strode past the security station. He ignored the officers' inquiries and marched to cell 2287.  
  
When he arrived there, he opened the cell door, ordered the guards to leave them, and closed the door behind him.  
  
The prisoner inside looked at him with both defiance and fear in her eyes. She knew what Vader was here for.  
  
"Princess Leia," Vader said, " I was ordered by Tarkin to terminate you immediately."  
  
Leia slid backward on the hard steel bench. "You can kill me, you rotted lump of flesh, but you will never win against the Alliance."  
  
Vader smiled slightly under his mask. "The Alliance is not your concern anymore. And I have no desire to kill you, yet. Do you know who your true parents are?"  
  
Leia's look turned into confusion. Her parents? "Bail and Padme Organa of Alderaan…"  
  
Vader's head shook slightly. She didn't know. Her mind was strong, but he would break her. His new…apprentice.  
  
  
  
THE END IS JUST BEGINNING…. 


End file.
